


Sobstuck

by technicolorCarbon



Category: Homestuck, MS Paint Adventures
Genre: Depression, Maybe - Freeform, PTSD, Post-Sburb/Sgrub, Sadstuck, Suicide, i don't even know what i'm doing anymore, i figured the world needed more sadstuck, triggering?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-24
Updated: 2012-12-24
Packaged: 2017-11-22 06:50:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,358
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/607005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/technicolorCarbon/pseuds/technicolorCarbon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He feels the weird, manic, desperate sort of sadness sink down, and he fills with grey instead. The deep well of sorrow opens up, flooding him over, and he almost tips himself over already.</p>
<p>God, he wants to die.</p>
<p>
  <i>(make it stop.)(please.)</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sobstuck

“Should I jump?” He asks dully from where he leans over the railing.

Dave and John are on the roof of Dave’s apartment, fanning themselves tiredly in the muggy heat, and Dave sits up from where he’s sprawled on his back to give John a sharp look.

“Dude, don’t make jokes like that. S'not fuckin’ funny.”

John tilts his head and finds Dave with darkened blue eyes, barely visible over his shoulder. The sky is ominously grey, but the humidity is almost enough to fool you into thinking it’s already rained. “Suicide’s never funny,” he says quietly, in that same, odd, flat tone Dave’s grown used to over the past few weeks.

Dave sits up, pulls his shirt off, tosses it at John with a half attempt at a smile. “Y'can always talk t'me if y’all feel the need, John.” He stands, dusting himself off, and adds, “Suicide’s never a good thing.”

“I know,” he replies quietly, returning his gaze to the sky (and the pavement below).

That was the end of it.

 

-

 

Jade laughs from around the corner, and Dave’s amused snort follows, two familiar sounds nearly swallowed by the plush carpet and wall hangings in the hotel.

“Swanky,” Rose comments dryly, patiently crossing her arms and waiting for John to leave behind the massive window he’s looking out. “I quite like the view from the top floor as well, John, but shouldn’t we follow Jade and Dave to the pool soon?”

He shrugs, arms pressed to the glass from fingertip to elbow. Rose is surprised his nose isn’t smearing the glass along with them. He seems entranced by the sheer height of the view. She’s almost startled when he speaks.

“Shouldn’t it just be called falling? Or throwing yourself? There’s really no jumping _to_ it.”

She frowns slightly. Dave has mentioned a similar episode with John before, also when they were at a significant height above the ground.

”John, are you talking about suicide?”

He shrugs lightly, and she catches a brief flash of his reflection in the glass, troubled expression matched only by the darkness in his eyes.

”John, are you… Have you ever thought of committing s-“

Jade crashes back around the corner, squealing and giggling uncontrollably as Dave tears after her, twisting a towel up to hit her again.

” _Daaaave!_ Stop iii- AAH!”

Jade ducks behind Rose, Dave snapping the towel menacingly, and the solemn spell is broken.

He never answered Rose’s question.

That was the end of it.

 

-

 

Jade kicks her legs lightly, dangling upside-down from the tire swing, and John is perched on the very edge of the circular roof, hands outstretched in front of him, fingers tapping like he’s playing the breeze.

He says something, but the words are carried away by the wind, and she can’t read his lips with the way he’s turned.

“What?”

She slips out of the rubber doughnut, and moves silently by his side, still smiling. Even if he has been quieter, his eyes darker, for the past year, she loves spending time with her twin. Her smile drops when he repeats himself, though.

“Would you ever jump with me?”

She frowns. “What-? You mean, off the roof?”

He gestures vaguely, not looking at her. “Or somewhere else really high.”

She shakes her head, gently and first, then more vehemently, wrapping her arms around herself like she’s cold. (Or afraid.) “No! I wouldn’t ever, not even with you! And John, I hope you’re not serious!”

He turns, then, and while his eyes are still troubled and sad, his smile is disarmingly reassuring. “I’d never want you to jump with me, anyways. I never want any of you to kill yourselves, not ever.”

She hugs him tightly, squeezing her eyes shut.

He doesn’t hug back.

“I love you, John,” she says softly, and he tenses slightly, then pulls away, standing and moving towards the door.

His tone is distracted as he mumbles, without looking at her, “I left some stuff on your bed for you. For Dave and Rose, too. Can you make sure they get it?”

She frowns, worry fueled by the fact that he never answered her query. “Why don’t you do it?”

He answers easily, back turned to her. “I’m going to stay at Dave’s for a month or so. ‘M not sure when I’ll see Rose again.”

She bites her lip. “Take Dave’s stuff with you, then.”

He shrugs. “Kay.”

She pretends the slightly cold way he’s been acting doesn’t bother her in the slightest. It’s okay. He’s fine, he always is.

That was the end of it.

 

-

 

He sticks Dave’s stuff (his stuff) on the blonde’s bed, and has to force his legs to keep moving, out the bedroom door, past the bathroom door, where Dave is; up through the trapdoor, and onto the roof.

He’s not sure if it’s relief or fear that’s flooded his veins with concrete.

He makes it to the middle of the rooftop, stands there a minute, and laughs, voice breaking into a ragged sob. He’s so, so, so agonizingly close to finished.

Jade refused, _(he thought she would anyways)_ , Dave offered to help _(he doesn’t even know how he’s feeling, how is he supposed to tell somebody else?)_ , and Rose really didn’t say much at all _(at least she hadn’t psychoanalyzed him)_.

He’s not leaving a note.

He manages to start towards the farthest corner, steps slowly becoming easier, coming quicker as he gets closer to the side.

He peers over the edge, standing right in the middle of the small border between building top and air. Between solid ground and freefall. Between Dave’s apartment and the grave. Between living and dying.

Dave and Bro had torn (accidentally) the safety siding off the top of the building in this corner when strifing one day. Dave had been ten, and had eagerly (or as eager as Striders get) recanted the feeling of dangling over the street with only his older brother’s hand to stave off the impending fall. Little John had thought it would be pretty cool if Dad strifed with _him_ weekly, like the Striders did, but he never would.

_(Big John would do anything to be back then, to have Dad to strife with, to talk to Dave without a care in the world.) (Mostly though, he just wants Dad back.)_

He feels the weird, manic, desperate sort of sadness sink down, and he fills with grey instead. The deep well of sorrow opens up, flooding him over, and he almost tips himself over already.

God, he wants to die.

_(make it stop.) (please.)_

But he has to wait for the perfect breeze, first.

_(god, it just hurts.) (make it end, take the pain away.)_

He’s detached from himself by now, not quite watching himself, but contained within his mind to a tiny corner, adrift in a sea of sadness, which is why he doesn’t register the footsteps pounding up the stairs.

_(I can’t wait please just end it now fuck) (wait for it; the perfect breeze) (it won’t catch you, but it’s okay- you don’t need to fly,  
you justneedtodie.)_

“John!”

_(I hurt so fucking much) (god I can’t live anymore)_

It’s Dave’s voice, ragged with emotion, breaking halfway through the name like he’s worshipping, or like he’s desperately ill.

Only he’s not worshipping, and he’s perfectly healthy- he’s trying to talk his best friend out of suicide, and that’s enough to make anyone cry.

_(the wind is picking up) (it’s here) (it’s going to fucking end thank god)_

John turns halfway, faint, bittersweet smile splayed over his lips.

“What would you do if I jumped?”

Dave feels a breeze whip his bangs from his face, catch his shades and knock them to the ground, and for a second, red and blue are trapped in each other with intensity.

Dave opens his mouth to speak, and John closes his eyes, spreads out his fingers, raises his arms, and falls backwards.

It’s not jumping at all.

_(plummeting falling dropping sinking lowering rocketing towards the ground plunging screaming downwards I’m dying)_

_(I’m sorry.)_

Dave dies when his best friend leaves the concrete of the roof.


End file.
